


Lessons

by Satan In Purple (purple_satan)



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Enemies to Still Enemies, Frottage, Hate Sex, M/M, story spoilers i guess?, the foodfan insta art made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_satan/pseuds/Satan%20In%20Purple
Summary: Boston Lobster gets more than he bargained for when Peking Duck finally finds the limits to his patience concerning the other man's antics.





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the [foodfan support group discord](https://discord.gg/ZJAZFfW) and especially Lux for convincing me with art to write this ship. I'm sorry but if any of y'all think Boston Lobster would top Peking Duck, you clearly haven't read his bio or know the crazy shit Peking has done in his past. He'd totally make Boston his bitch, change my mind.
> 
> Spoilers for Peking's story!!!

“It’s time we go back,” Peking Duck announces as the last fallen angel is slain. Dusting off his robes and stashing his pipe back into the folds of his robe, he scoops up the ducklings as Milk and Black Tea nod in agreement and Spicy Gluten looks on impassively. The Master Attendant is, however, frowning and biting her lip as her eyes dart to each of the food souls.

They’re deep in the catacombs, all of them exhausted. After the last level where Boston Lobster once again nearly got them killed by running into battle headfirst, tension is running high. Leaving them exposed and not waiting for the rest of the group before beginning to attack one of the less brilliant things their "leader" had done recently.

“Master Attendant,” Boston says, coming up from behind her and getting far too close in her personal space for anyone’s liking. “What do you think? Wouldn’t it be fun if we stayed… a little longer.”

The Master rolls her eyes as she dismisses his voice dripping with innuendo, waving her hand in the air.

“Nah, I think Peking is right. We’ve been at it for a while and I should probably go check on the restaurant.”

Looking at his torn clothes, Peking tuts as the Master puts a hand on Boston’s shoulder. Watches as the man’s expression narrows before changing to a devious grin as she looks over his injuries, hands running over his chest before stilling when they finally reach his exposed skin.

"You really um, should g—go to the ice arena when we get back. You—you're burning up," she stammers out and Boston catches her by the wrist, leering.

"Who told you you could touch me?" He asks and she looks mortified as he places her hand exactly where she originally avoided, feeling the coolness of her skin against his. Peking watches on, ready to intervene but Boston miraculously lets go, possibly because now he's attracted the attention of the entire group, four other sets of eyes watching the two of them with varied reactions to the exchange.

Boston chuckles and stays by her side as they make the trek back mostly in silence, save for the small conversations Milk makes with the Master. The rest of the group stays quiet, avoiding the obvious elephant in the room of what just happened and Peking mulls over quietly in his head how things have gone from relatively simple to very complicated in a few short days since the man in red unexpectedly shoved a signed contract into his Master's hands and angrily stomped away.

* * *

 

Back at the restaurant, Peking waits until the others have dispersed to finally catch Boston Lobster off guard. Closing the door to the hallway so that the ducklings are safe behind it, he then quietly casts silence before pinning the other man up against the wall as hard as he can.

“The fuck are you—” Boston begins, red eyes darting frantically as he realizes he can’t move. “Pe..ki..ng...”

He chokes out his assailant's name, arms going limp as he stops struggling and just glares. Though the other male may have an extra inch of height on him, it’s still easy enough for Peking to pin him against the wall. Claws just out of reach snap menacingly before also going limp, as Boston's stare burns holes into him.

“You know,” Peking begins conversationally, adopting a blase tone. “I quite wish you would have gone and got yourself killed. It would have been a favor to us all.”

Running his hand up the other man’s chest, he wonders what it would be like to plunge a knife through it. If it would feel like it did before, the subtle resistance of a blade slipping between the ribs and puncturing something vital. The wet gurgle of his lungs being punctured, spitting out blood in tiny rivulets as he expirates. He'd never killed for sport in the past, only duty.

_Would it haunt him like the others if he took another food soul's life?_

“I hate everything about you,” he adds, hand at Boston Lobster’s throat. The low light of the hallway glints off of his monocle, still in place as he squeezes and gives Boston a dark smile. “You don’t deserve to be here, by her side. Leading us. Just because she’s naive doesn’t mean I am.”

Leaning in to whisper, he pushes the curtain of silvery-white hair back in a startlingly gentle manner. He runs a finger against the shell of Boston's ear, licking his lips before he continues.

“You know where I’ve been and what I’ve done. Stay away from the Master, you worthless piece of scum.”

“You think you’re the better option?” Boston spits after coughing, still immobilized. “She deserves better than either of us. Your fucking holier-than-thou act around everyone—”

He stops mid-sentence and groans as Peking presses the full of his weight against the other man, and—

 _Oh, well isn’t_ that _an interesting development..._

Peking Duck knew the other man was prone to making rash and impulsive decisions, a quality which he found frankly terrible considering his position among the ranks of the food souls. More than once they had found themselves in a situation where had he not quickly silenced the enemy or Milk been ready to heal them, they would have surely been defeated due to the man underneath him's impetuousness.

Perhaps he could use this to teach the other man a lesson in humility.

“Disgusting,” Peking tuts, cutting him off. Feeling his response, he wedges his knee between the other man’s legs. ”Boston, I _am_ better than you. This is just more proof.”

_“Fuck you.”_

“I might consider it if you’d shut up for five seconds. It’d certainly help your disposition."

He feels the other man twitch at this, his erection now pressing against the seam of his red pants enough it would be visible to anyone happening to walk in on them. Giving the tented fabric an appraising look, he looks back up at Boston who is now breathing heavily against the wall, the silence just barely beginning to wear off.

"Possibly mine as well.”

Boston barks out a laughs, rolling his hips and not breaking eye contact. “Didn’t think you were the type to lower yourself for  _scum."_  

The sharp crack of a hand making contact against flesh echoes in the deserted hallway. Boston continues to look impassively, barring his teeth as the pink mark blooms across his cheek.

“Mind that tongue of yours or I’ll put your mouth to better use,” Peking warns, his hand still up and ready to strike again.

“Try me.”

Moving his hand from Boston's throat, Peking grips his chin. A moment passes of them trading mutual looks of disgust, then he leans in and kisses him hard. As with everything else he does, the lobster goes in with little finesse, mouth attacking Peking’s own just as viciously. Their teeth clack more than once, as they battle for dominance over each other and the numbness of being silenced slowly receding and Boston's hands begin to grab at him feverously, mouth and skin hotter than Peking could remember another being, as though fire itself was inside him and licking at his skin.

Reminding himself this isn’t for his own pleasure but to teach him a lesson, he stills himself. Boston grinds against him and groans, hands in the folds of his robe now that he can freely move. Pulling at his waist, his hips, anything to get him closer, Boston’s eyes dilate as he keeps kissing back. A claw makes its way into the mix and the sound of the fabric of his own clothing tearing snaps Peking out of what he was doing. He bites hard on Boston’s bottom lip in retaliation and the taste of copper fills their mouths, only spurring the other man on further to rub against him and find his own relief.

In the blissful moments of his release he finally stops seeing the charred bodies, the children sacrificed and throats he had to slit to make his promises come to fruition. His mind empties, white noise buzzing through his ears as he slumps against Boston, breathing heavily.

It's more than mildly unpleasant, the feeling of his clothes sticking to him and his own semen cooling against his skin. But Boston looks flushed and flustered enough he went through with things to make any discomfort worth it. The man's red top is falling down his arms and his hair disheveled, cheeks rosy and his eyes slightly glazed over as he breathes in once, twice, before grunting underneath him and shoving him off. There’s a murderous look on his face as he stomps away, wiping at the blood on his lips and pulling back up the part of his shirt that had fallen.

Opening the door behind him, Peking scoops up the ducklings on the other side. Patting them on the head, he's happy to find them all safe but inquisitive as to why they were left alone without their master.

 _“Asshole,”_ he hears the man mutter down the hall, heavy footsteps echoing as he leaves out the other door.

The ducklings chatter softly in his arms and Peking Duck gives Boston Lobster's retreating back a grin as he licks the blood off his lips and smiles.

Though he cannot help but wonder how much this is going to only complicate things further, perhaps the man will finally stay away from the Master and come to him for more lessons in the future instead.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i actually wrote porn about food, food porn. anyway come find me [@food-fantasy-support-group](http://food-fantasy-support-group.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me for being a heathen, i don't mind.


End file.
